Trading Snow for Rain
by TitaniaSarys
Summary: Post CACW! Spoiler alert! Natasha and Steve find each other after the war and finally manage to have a future together. Will include vodka, injuries, sarcasm, stupid ideas, blood, probably sex, health issues, swearing, a wedding, diapers and a cat. Not necessarily in that order. Romanogers. A mix of the movies and comics. Rated M for most of the things cited above.
1. A phone call away

_Upper Manhattan_

She pressed the numbers she had learned by heart. It had taken her only twenty seconds to memorize them and she could barely spend more than a minute in his office before he got suspicious. She even got caught, although she knew he wouldn't mind much. He told her he kind of expected her too. That didn't surprise her: after all, they had known each other for years and he was used to all her spy stuff. Her spy shenanigans like he called them. So she wasn't that surprised when he didn't show the slightest sign of astonishment or something like that.

No, what surprised her was the fact that he didn't seem to mind. Like it wasn't a big deal that she broke into his office while he was in the tower. It also showed her how fed up he was with the latest development and how exhausted he was to really put up with her crap. It worried her a little to see him like that but she knew Tony Stark could take care of himself, so she didn't ask or make him realize what she was actually thinking. She had a knack for always hiding her emotions and a few years ago, it drove him mad to not be able to read her. But now, Tony didn't care.

He hadn't said a thing when he entered his office and saw her sitting at his desk, looking at the screen of a black burner phone. As soon as she heard him enter, she closed the screen and shut down the phone, placing it back into the envelope he kept it in. He hadn't bothered to take it out of it since the day he had received the package some month ago. She had simply put the envelope back into the desk drawer, rose to her feet and gracefully made her way towards Tony who hadn't move or made a sound.

"I swear if you did anything…" he started.

She stopped him by putting her hand on his shoulder, her body angled towards the exit.

"You know I wouldn't do that."

She let go of his shoulder after a gentle squeeze and he didn't look at her. For the last month, he hadn't. Not because of what she had done but of what she was becoming. Somehow, he couldn't bear to look at her. It was as though he could see all the consequences of this conflict on her body and in her eyes. He had seen how much the Avengers mattered to her, how happy he was since they had been brought together and how devastated she was now that they were no more. It was the first time since the Red Room that she had allowed herself to fell apart of an organization, of a family. She hadn't batted an eye when SHIELD fell, but the Avengers…

"If you wanted the number, you could have just asked me," he said, breaking the silence.

"And where's the fun in that?" was all Natasha answered before she walked out the door.

He hasn't seen her since. That was two months ago.

And now she was standing against the wall of some shady alley in Upper Manhattan, her lithe body hugging the shadows of the night, her hand around a cell phone she had just bought around the corner for a couple of dollars. As she waited for the person at the other end to answer, her gaze surveyed everything that was going on around her, from the noises on the street a few feet away on her left, to the shadows on her right and even the air above her head and the roofs of the building some six stories high.

Three months had passed since the breakout of her fellow Avengers. Ross had been really pissed. But she was long gone by then, she had disappeared into the shadows as soon as she had left the battlefield when she had used her Widow bits on T'Challa, letting Steve and James escape. She didn't regret it. She regretted very few things in her life. Since then, her friends were all safe, both thanks to Steve and Tony's efforts, one providing actual physical assistance in hiding and the other providing discreet financial help. She also had played a hand in that story, leaving Clint small hints and messages along with a couple of keys to some of her safe houses and code numbers for security, vaults and weapon lockers in those safe houses.

From what she knew, Clint and his family were safe and sound in one of her safe houses in Iowa. Sam was in her mansion in San Francisco, the same one in which she had lived with Matt and Ivan once upon a time. Wanda was with Vision somewhere in Canada in one of the cottages that Banner had reinforced to be able to control the Hulk. Scott was moving from place to place, relying on his old friends' network to stay in the dark until everything died down a little bit and he was able to return to the Pyms and see his daughter. Peter was back in Queens with his aunt and kept in touch with Tony. Rodey was in rehab at the facility and Tony kept an eye on him, or the other way around. Pepper was still nowhere to be seen and she feared it might stay like that for a while, especially after all the Superhuman Registration Act issues. T'Challa was back in Wakanda as king and from the tabs she had been keeping on everyone she knew Steve and James had visited him. Maybe they were still there. Sharon was back in law enforcement and somehow, her involvement had remained a secret.

And there was Natasha, standing in a shady alley in New York City, waiting for a certain someone to pick up the damn phone. She had only looked briefly at the number in Tony's burner phone, but she was sure she wasn't mistaken. She had an excellent memory for someone who was eighty-seven. While she waited through the different beeps, she allowed herself to look at her legs. She couldn't see anything wrong. Good. So no one could see the bandage that she had hastily wrapped around her left thigh. Or the fact that she was slightly limping, having twisted her right ankle.

So far so good. She hadn't the right to complain. Of course, Ross has sent his dogs after her the moment he had learned about the breakout in the prison. She assumed it was also because of her treason although she didn't picture the guy for the type to hold grudges. Sure, he had been made a fool, but it was the bread and breakfast of politicians, or that's how she saw it anyway. But despite his best attempts to trap her, he had only managed to catch thin air. Sure, she had been injured and some of her wounds had forced her to take a swift trip at the local hospital, yes she had been that desperate. And in those three months she had scored more injuries than during the alien invasion in 2012.

One third of her safe houses were destroyed, another third was too risky to visit. The influence she once had thanks to her web was wearing thin and she neither had the resources or the time to make it as great as it was during the time she had worked on it with Isaiah a few years back. Now, everything had changed. She had been hurt by law enforcement officers during the last weeks, true, but she had actually been more hurt trying to escape from them. She had received her current injuries after leaving her safe house in Philadelphia ten hours ago. The wound on her thigh deserved to be checked up but she kept telling herself it wasn't so bad. She had been in worse situations with less means and still survived.

So her injuries weren't the reason why she had decided to call Steve now of all times. First, she missed him and she was too damn stubborn and not the romantic type to accept that she indeed had feelings for him. She preferred to think of it as an instinct that pulled her towards someone she trusted more than anyone else and someone she was comfortable with. At least comfortable enough to turn to in case of an emergency. Barton had been her default emergency contact for years and Stark had joined after the Avenger initiative. But her best friend and the billionaire were not options at the moment, one being on the run himself and frankly quite busy with his family. The other being so out of it that she didn't trust him to take care of even himself. She hated leaving Tony like that, but after her treason, the only think she could do is bring him more trouble. Sure, she had seen him during the first month, had stayed at the tower and Avengers facility for a while and helped Rhodey out, but she couldn't stay forever. And the day Ross' men had showed up on the facility's door, she had packed her bags.

Which brought her thoughts to the fact that she was also putting Steve in danger with what she was planning to do. But she knew for a fact that A) he was also on the run and didn't have kids to take special care of, B) he was safe and had stayed at that place the last three months and C) she knew exactly where he was and with whom. So she had decided to call him.

"Hello?" he said at the other end of the line. His voice didn't sound sleepy but rather half-awake as if it was early in the morning. She couldn't help but smile and opened her mouth but not a single sound came out, as if she was suddenly at a loss for words. "Hello? Tony? Is something wrong?" Hearing Tony's name made her frown for a second before she remembered that the billionaire was supposed to be the only one to have that number.

"Steve…" she said, her voice shaking slightly. She realized her legs were shaking too and she thought about sitting down. But she knew that if she did that, she wouldn't be able to stand up because of the exhaustion and the pain, so she just leaned more against the wall.

"Nat." It wasn't a question, more like a realization. She heard him sigh at the other end of the line. She could picture him brushing his hand through his golden hair, maybe even blush a little. She wondered if there was relief in his eyes.

"Yeah, it's me." She paused for a moment. Why had she called him again? "How are you?"

She guessed that her question had hit a sensitive spot because he didn't answer. She could almost feel his grip tighten on the phone he was probably holding with his left hand, just like he used to with his shield. She heard him sigh. He was probably closing his eyes and his free hand shot for his forehead where she could imagine a frown was.

"It's tough. Without Bucky. You know what happened right?"

She nodded before remembering that he couldn't see her. "I guessed. We were both Russian spies at some point. I can't deny that I understand his choice." She had her suspicions for a while but T'Challa had confirmed that James had decided to go under.

"How is everybody?" he suddenly asked, his voice filled with the responsibility he used to show when he was Captain America. He was always worried about the others, very rarely about himself and that's something she found wonderful. Even though he didn't care about what happened to him, but she could relate: they had that in common.

"They're fine. They're coping in their own ways but no one had been harmed in the last weeks." She winced a little at the end of her sentence, feeling her strength waver. She had been standing for too long. Usually she could stand for hours, her body was trained to survive through difficult ordeals but her injuries changed things. So far she had managed to ignore it but she was getting sloppy, her actions were messy. She needed a break but she refused to take it.

"Are you alright?" he asked, concerned. Natasha quickly looked at the street on her left that she could barely see. No one was there.

"I'm fine."

"You don't sound fine." There, he was using his Captain America tone again. She was glad to hear it but at the same time, she was frustrated because they were talking about her well-being.

"I've survived worse." Somehow she couldn't bring herself to lie to him. He was always so honest that she couldn't help but be honest too. He really had a nasty influence on her. It was bad for business if she couldn't lie properly. She needed those skills in her line of work. But Steve wasn't work. So maybe, just maybe, she could lower her guard and be Natasha for a while and not the Black Widow. During the years, especially after she had left the KGB and joined SHIELD thanks to Clint, she had always made the difference between Natasha Romanoff and the Black Widow. Now, she wasn't so sure. Some days she felt like they were both part of her, some other days, she was more inclined to separate them and to hide behind one or the other although she never used them as excuses.

"Nat… they came for you, didn't they?"

"They did. But I can handle myself, you know that."

"I know. Which doesn't mean I can't be worried. I miss you." Was that yearning she heard in his voice?

"Now now, don't get all sentimental on me soldier," she laughed. Then she thought that she didn't say it back so she added: "I miss you too."

"Why did you call? Because we both know it's not just because you wanted to hear the sound of my voice." He knew her so well.

She bit her lips and another wince found its way on her face. Dammit, the painkillers were wearing off. She had probably overdosed them too because she only used the strong stuff, her body having adapted to the others. She wasn't capable of eating properly lately too. For the last two months, trouble had been on her tail, forcing her to move across all the different states of the US. She didn't have time to cook and it was too dangerous to stop at a grocery store for more than fifteen minutes, unless she had a full disguise on. But since their big fight at the airport, she had been too tired to pull something like that off. She could disguise herself like she did on missions, but she was exhausted after just an hour of makeup. She wasn't willing to admit that all that civil war stress was getting to her. She didn't sleep well, didn't eat well and so there were consequences. She had no idea how much weight she had lost and truthfully, she wasn't willing to look at the ghost of her image in the mirror. So she ran and survived.

Although she hated to admit it, with her new injuries, she had reached her breaking point.

"I can't do this anymore," she suddenly let out. "I need a break. But I can't risk seeing the others."

"Nat, I don't want to put you in danger." She laughed at this. He probably didn't even consider the fact that she would be the one putting him in danger if she came.

"I'm currently standing in the belly of the beast, Steve. I don't think you can do worse than that." Being behind bars would be worse, but she kept that to herself.

"Manhattan?"

"Not very far from Stark tower actually. I can almost see it from the street," she said.

"Nat, you shouldn't…"

"Hiding in the most obvious place can be the best strategy sometimes Steve. So far it worked for the last couple of hours."

"Please be careful."

"I will. And as I was saying, I'm coming." He didn't say anything. "Don't give me that look, I know where you are. And I know you're safe. Besides, I've already talked to T'Challa. He forgave me for my bites."

"If you really want to come, then fine." His voice was frustrated but glad at the same time as if a weight had been lifted from his shoulders. "I guess it could be a good thing, you could be safe here." He stopped for a moment as if he was gathering his thoughts. "I'll talk to him, to arrange you transportation."

"No need, I've already taken care of it. My web might be thin right now, but it's still operational.

"You sure?"

"Yes, Steve. I gotta go, but I love you too." She said that last part very quickly, almost tripping on her own words.

She hung up at the same moment that her brain registered what she just said. She had said it on instinct, as a joke more than anything. But now that she thought about it, Steve could take her seriously. After a few seconds, she shook her head. Nah, he was used to her sarcasm. Besides, she spoke so fast, she wasn't sure he had heard her. She detached herself from the wall and winced again. She let the phone fall to the ground and smashed it with the heel of her left boot, wincing at the violent movement. But she'd rather use her bleeding leg than the one with the twisted ankle.

She checked the street before walking out of the alley. She wore a long black coat that covered her casual clothes and her black wig hid her red curls that had grown quite long. Unfortunately, they didn't have their usual shine because yeah, her body was a wreck and she was mentally exhausted. She climbed the steps to one of her apartments, the one that she truly used as an apartment and not a safe house. She still had a couple of those on the East coast. Old Anna who lived on the ground floor had moved out two years ago, following Natasha's advice on leaving her abusive husband. Natasha had stopped following tabs on the elder woman when she had learned that the latter was safe and happy in Chicago.

The second she opened the door of her apartment, her black cat Liho came to her. Her long tail snaked around one of Natasha's legs and she purred. Natasha always left the kitchen window open for the cat to come and go since the spy wasn't always there. Wincing more and more, Natasha limped into the bedroom and started rummaging through the boxes she hid in the back of her closet, behind a fake plank. Liho followed her when she wasn't satisfied with just a few caresses.

"How do you feel about a little trip to Africa, hum?" Natasha said to the cat that meowed in response, her green big eyes landing on Natasha's blue ones. "I know, it's mostly raining there and you won't like it, but I'm going there for a certain time. So you better come with me." She scratched Liho's head before grabbing a travelling bag and throwing things in it unceremoniously. One shower, two coffees and a shot of vodka later, she was ready to go. She had taken out Liho's cage and packed her bag. It was filled with a new passport (she kept a stash of those), a good amount of clothes, some personal belongings, ammunition and her two trusty pistols, her catsuit and Widow bites, some food for Liho, cash, painkillers and a first-aid kit. Which in her book didn't simply contain bandages and such, but also makeup for covers, electronic parts for tinkering, a small EMP the size of a jacket button and different currencies along with a translator for the rare languages she didn't speak. So it was actually a survival kit but whatever.

Natasha locked Liho in her cage despite the cat's protests and took her apartment's phone which was untraceable of course. She didn't have to wait long because she had called a number she wasn't supposed to call unless it was an emergency.

"Natasha, do you know what time is it?" Isaiah asked, stifling a yawn.

"It's barely past midnight. Don't be such an old man."

"What do you need? What happened?"

"I need a ride."

"And you call me for that? Can't you hail a cab or something?"

"I'm leaving for a while, Isaiah. I'm taking Liho with me."

"Wow, that's serious if you're thinking about taking your cat. Where are you going?"

She smiled. "Wakanda. Now pull on those favors people owe me and find me a plane that leaves in three hours tops."

* * *

 **Hi guys, Titania here! I watched Captain America Civil War the other day and I had so many new ideas, so here they are. Just a reminder: in this story, I'm taking into account the events of the Marvel movies but also some events of the comics, like the fact that Natasha was born in 1928, that she lived with Daredevil in Frisco in the late 70s and things like that. So it's bascially a mix of the comics and movies.**

 **I hope you like it and I'll see you soon!**

 **TS**


	2. Arrival through the jungle

**Hi guys! I hope you're doing great! It's the middle of May and I just came back from a snow storm! I still can't believe it!**

 **Anyway, here's the new chaper, I hope you'll enjoy! And thanks for the reviews!**

 **TS**

* * *

 _Wakanda_

A loud meowing erupted from her bag and Natasha could no longer ignore it.

"I know it sucks Liho, but you should be glad we're still alive with the shit that happened!"

She ignored the next flow of protests coming from the black cat in her bag. Natasha kept walking, putting her weight on the two thick branches that she used as makeshift crutches. Isaiah had been a pro and found her a plane in the time limit she had given him, although it was more out of habit and to annoy him than real necessity, she would have waited a couple of hours if need be.

She had landed on Kenyan soil with a small private jet. Isaiah had been very specific in giving her the exact source of her transportation because he knew she always wanted to know. Knowledge was power in her line of work and she was the Avenger that always kept tabs on everyone and everything. After all, she couldn't let her excellent memory and sense of analysis go to waste. She had learned how to keep information secret though and had learned that some things were better left in her memory than on a flash drive. One incident had almost cost her her life and the trust of her friends. Fortunately, their secrets hadn't been that much spilled (was there anything left after Project Insight and the fall of SHIELD?) and everything went back to order.

So this source that possessed a private jet that flew all the way to Africa without too much questions was a former contractor. A guy she remembered saving the neck of during the time Isaiah still worked for her. Well, technically he still did, but it was almost a thing of the past now that her web was wearing thin. Isaiah still did jobs and errands for her whenever she asked and would more act as a lawyer than anything else. She couldn't blame him and was glad he wasn't 24/7 on her cases because that had gotten him in harm's way. The source had reluctantly agreed and Isaiah had promised he was even with the Black Widow and Natasha had crossed this source from her mental list of potential helpers. Not that the list was very long and Natasha tended not to rely on it, those people were known to be backstabbers.

Once she had arrived in Kenya not very far from the Kilimanjaro, she had borrowed without asking a bike, the kind that Steve would frown upon because it was "too modern". She liked that kind of stuff though. But she had to admit, seeing Cap pull over on his old school bike turned her slightly on. Not that she would ever admit that, even to herself. Especially to herself.

Things went south when she crossed the Kenyan-Azania border. People started shooting at her and in the midst of action; she didn't stop to consider why they were doing so. They could have been part of a terrorist group, of an international organization like SHIELD was or even the local police for all she knew. In other circumstances, she might have investigated, if not for work than just for her own curiosity. But she was exhausted, wounded and the injury on her thigh was bleeding again. During the crossfire, her bike had been hit and the fuel tank was pierced. She had ditched her cat's cage and placed Liho inside her own bag to avoid having things get in the way. Her cat was too scared by all the noise to do anything else than hang on one of her shirts for dear life, her green eyes so big and round they seemed to be about to pop out of fear.

Luckily, Natasha hadn't scored an extra injury with that stunt, just slightly aggravated her twisted ankle. Once the bike had run out of fuel, Natasha had left it on the side of the dusty road and had entered the dense tropical forest. It was more of a jungle actually. She had no idea when she crossed the border between Azania and Wakanda, but the air quickly became thick and damp, making her walk more difficult. The flora was also bushier and wilder, almost as if it didn't want her there.

And yeah, her injuries hurt like a bitch. She needed to take frequent stops to catch her breath because just walking for half a mile tired her more than she liked. She couldn't properly walk and had picked the two branches hours ago. She was now leaning on them like an old lady, panting as if she was in labor and the pain that shot from her legs with each step made her want to die. Of course, her painkillers had worn off and she didn't have any left. She had also run out of water and the only thing she had to eat in her bag was the food for her cat. She didn't touch it tough: she hadn't sunken that low yet.

Liho made another noise of complaint and Natasha sighed before turning to the side, her weight pressed on one of the branches (she had ditched the other, using them both was being too tiring and she was forced to put some weight on both her legs anyway).

"I can't let you out, Liho," she panted. "There are black panthers here, you'll get eaten. And I don't want to lose you: you don't exactly have a collar spelling "property of Black Widow" around your neck. Besides…" she looked at the sky that she could just barely see through the canopy of thick jungle leaves the size of truck wheels. "It's gonna rain soon."

Liho's head appeared briefly through the large gap Natasha had left open on her bag to let her cat breathe. A meow of complain just made the former assassin smile. "I know I can't wait to get there too." She pressed on, walking slower than ever. She felt like a slug. It shouldn't even be called walking at this point. She simply used the stick to bare her weight when she was making two steps, first the left with the bullet hole on her thigh then the right with her twisted ankle.

She was too stubborn to seek shelter when rain started pouring in heavy damp sheets on her head. Liho pulled back inside the bag when the first drops fell on her fur and it almost made Natasha smile. Almost, because at that same moment, she lost her footing and fell on her knees, the wound on her thigh searing with pain, making her wince and scream. "Oh god that hurts!" she let out with a few Russian curses. She tried to get back to her feet but the weight of the rain seemed to press on her shoulders, keeping her low. Her legs wouldn't budge either as if they had been turned to stone.

She fell face first in the mud next. She stayed like that for a while, listening to the heavy pounding on her body, feeling her cat rustle in the bag but not daring get out. Some exotic birds could be heard in the distance but the noise of the rain covered most of nature's soundtrack. Her long red hair was plastered on either side of her face, but she didn't try to move it, neither did she try to wipe away the mud that covered her nose and half of her neck. And don't even get her started on the front side of her clothes.

After a few minutes, the cold started setting in and slowly crept through her bones. She shivered and propped herself on her elbows. If she couldn't walk to the palace, she would crawl. Same difference and it didn't matter at this point. She wasn't thinking rationally, her mind swimming in a painful heat as if someone had put her brain in a microwave. She vaguely remembered seeing a huge amount of water at some point on her way there. But she didn't dare get close to crocodiles in her state, so she had went back into the forest. She'd rather face black panthers than alligators or anything that could be made into bags and shoes.

She managed to drag herself in the mud on some ten feet before her body shut down. The last thing she remembered besides the constant pounding of the rain on her head was a dark silhouette in front of her. It looked human but didn't approach, as if it waited for her to let down her guard. In her last moments of consciousness, she managed to put her hand in her bag to find her Widow bites but all she felt was the warm fur of Liho. She remembered the quick and hot lick on her hand before it all went black.

* * *

Steve woke up in his suite in the palace. He had simply asked for a room but T'Challa had refused to give him anything less than a full suite with included a bathroom the size of a pool, a kitchen with top modern equipment and a bedroom with a king size bed that could fit five soldiers like him. But just like with Tony when he still had a floor at the tower, Steve didn't argue. He could see it was T'Challa's pleasure to treat his guest with the best he had to offer and Steve was actually glad to be able to relax for a while.

Since he was back from the ice, he had been on missions for SHIELD with strike team Delta, then Project Insight had sent everything to hell and his search for Bucky had taken months. Oh, and don't forget the Avengers' business like the battle of New York that almost ended up in a catastrophe and Sokovia that could have fallen to Ultron's metal hands. Then Lagos had happened and the bombing of the United Nations and, well, shit happened.

So for once, Steve was glad to be back to the sidelines, to simply hide for a while, to stay away from the rest of the world. He deserved a little peace, especially since the last months had been emotionally draining, first with Peggy's death, then Bucky's decision to go cryo. Steve needed a break and apparently so did Nat. He was happy she was coming, he hadn't seen her in three whole months and although he knew she could take care of herself, he had had his fair share of moments when he had seen her hurt. He had stopped counting how many GSW she had received and how many bones she had broken or how many pints of blood she had lost since the very first day she had entered the Black Widow program. He didn't think even she knew exactly. He knew she kept track and it was an inside joke between them, with their whole conversation about dating and shared life experience.

To make it simply, he was worried and so when T'Challa himself (usually he sent someone else because he had to resume his duties as king) walked into his suite, Steve immediately jumped on his feet from the leather couch in the living room.

"Black Widow was spotted in the woods of solitude a few minutes ago, a couple of miles from here." Steve appreciated the fact that T'Challa went straight to the point. He was about to grab his shield and helmet but remembered he wasn't Captain America anymore. He had been thinking about his role among the Avengers, if there was anything left of them, and he had a couple of ideas that he wanted to run by his friends, but he had to meet them first. His attention went back to T'Challa and he followed him outside.

They climbed into a jeep and headed for the forest. One of T'Challa's men was driving like he knew exactly where to go. Steve respected the Wakandians more and more, for the fact that they were able to not get lost on their own land but also for the fact that they formed their own nation that was in harmony with nature. It was something rare nowadays and Steve liked to spend some time every day watching his friends' people just going on about their day.

Twenty minutes later, they arrived at the place where Natasha was spotted. Another Wakandian, this one dressed like a warrior with traditional weapons as deadly as the latest Stark technology, stood over a silhouette lying in the mud. His body was arched above the lady in a way to prevent the rain from falling directly on her head. T'Challa immediately walked out of the jeep and ignored the rain that wet his rich royal clothes. He exchanged a few words with the man while Steve knelt next to Natasha. He called her name and shook her shoulder lightly but she was passed out cold. He didn't like the way her skin seemed pale but it was probably due to the low light. T'Challa knelt next to him, on the other side. He pressed his dark hand on Natasha's forehead and hissed.

"Her life's in danger. Her body is suffering. We have to get her back to the palace, quickly. Our healers will be waiting our arrival and will take care of her as soon as we get there."

Steve nodded and cradled Natasha's body in his arms, ignoring the mud or how ridiculous she looked with her front completely dirty as if she just walked out of a mud fight. His heart sank when he realized with how much ease he could lift her. He had held her or at least felt her weight on him countless of times before. One time when they were on the run from HYDRA after the bombing of Fort Leigh and all the other times during training when she practiced her swinging movements on him. So he could compare and he could tell she had lost too much weight for his liking. He couldn't tell by just looking at her features because mud covered most of them.

He walked in the jeep and laid her across the backseats that no one else took, T'Challa sitting up front with his driver. Cradling her head in the crook of his elbow, he proceeded to wipe a little bit of the mud covering her nose. Two fingers lingered on her neck and he felt a weak pulse. When he wanted to place a wet clunk of hair behind her ear, he accidentally brushed her forehead and felt it burning under his palm. She had a high fever and was completely soaked: T'Challa was right, they had to move now.

The man that found Natasha handed Steve her back before shutting the door of the jeep close. The car started again and Steve could tell the driver was driving faster than before. Suddenly, a loud meow erupted inside the car, making everyone jump. A dark and furry head appeared from the bag and walked out of it. The cat spread its limbs just like it did after a long nap and shook slightly: somehow it had gotten wet even inside the bag.

"Hey Liho," Steve said gently and reached for the cat. It climbed on the seat next to him but didn't rub itself against Natasha like it usually did. It purred against Steve's free hand though. "It's Natasha's cat," Steve explained to T'Challa when he caught his interrogative stare. The king of Wakanda smiled after looking at the black cat and its big green bright eyes.

"A fit animal for a brave warrior like Black Widow. Just like one of our small panthers." Steve smiled and didn't take his eyes from Natasha's face during the rest of the way. She seemed so peaceful and yet there was a slight frown every now and then, followed by a tight gasp that made Steve think she was regaining consciousness. But she stayed like that until they arrived at the palace.

They had a hospital like a mile away but T'Challa thought it would be best to have Natasha stay at the palace to keep an eye on her. He also knew she'd need calm and had already told the doctors to move all necessary medical equipment in the room he had had prepared for her (which was across the hall from Steve's own suite). Steve gently transported her all the way from the jeep to her suite, Liho standing on his broad shoulder. He didn't let go of her until he laid her on her bed which was as big as his. Somehow, it seemed even bigger because Natasha looked so small.

Three doctors were already waiting and they ran a quick diagnosis. Steve trusted them so he didn't say anything and once Natasha was out of his arms, he stepped aside, letting the three women do their work. Despite their traditional ways, Wakandians were at the top of technology and had what they needed. After all, they did possess equipment for Bucky's cryo, so they should have everything to patch Natasha up.

When the doctors proceeded to take the former assassin's clothes off, Steve stepped out of the room with T'Challa. He retrieved her bag in the living room and decided to wait there until the doctors were done. T'Challa promised to send something to eat for them both, even though he didn't know when Natasha would wake up, then he left the soldier alone. Liho was still steadily set on his shoulder and Steve let her be there as long as she didn't hurt him with her claws. He did take a towel to dry the cat though. He then took out the stuff that was in Natasha's bag, not because he was nosy but because he assumed it was all soaked. He spread her clothes in the suite to dry and aligned the other things on the table in the living room. He even took care of her weapons so they would be functional when she woke up. She wouldn't need them here, but Steve just knew the fuss she was able to make about her weapons and how much she took care of them. He hadn't figured out if it was out of habit or because she liked to do that.

When dinner came, one plate was set aside for Natasha on the table next to her stuff. Steve let Liho have some of the meat; he knew Natasha always gave her cat a little bit of fresh meat every day. As always, the plate was huge but for Steve's metabolism that burned everything four times quicker, it was perfect. The doctors were done patching Natasha up when he finished his meal and allowed him to see her. One of the women spoke English and told him about Natasha's injuries, what to do if it got worse and when to call the doctors. Steve nodded and entered the room with Liho skipping between his feet to get there first. The cat jumped on the bed and nestled against Natasha's right side, like it always did when the spy was wounded.

Steve realized that not only did the doctors patch the wounds; they also washed Natasha and dressed her in a grey and ample gown, a little bit like the hospital kind but not entirely. Her red hair had been somehow dried but remained a little bit damp. The mud from her face and neck was gone and in the warm light of the lamp next to the bed, Steve could finally take her all in. Her skin was too pale for his liking and covered in a thin layer of sweat. A wet cloth was pressed on her forehead and Steve saw a bucket of water at the foot of the bed. He immediately decided he would change the cloth every now and then himself. A thermometer could be found on her night stand. The doctors had told him her temperature was high but that it was likely to go up during the night.

He couldn't see her legs but the doctors had told him she had a bullet hole in her left thigh and that her right ankle was somewhere between twisted, sprained and broken. Because she had walked on it when she shouldn't, they couldn't access exactly the damage apart from the fact that it was bad. She didn't seem otherwise externally hurt but his heart sank in his chest when he looked at her general small frame. It wasn't only her face; he could see that her entire body suffered from her weight loss. But her apparent cheekbones gave it away the most. Natasha had always been thin because of all the hard work she did. Her body didn't have an ounce of fat but her muscles were present and she had every curve where it should be. But she had never been that thin, almost sickly underweight. He promised himself to ask her to measure her weight as soon as she'll be able to stand up. He didn't need to know how much she weighted, but he needed her to acknowledge that it wasn't healthy.

As he looked down at her face that frowned from time to time because of the fever raging through her system, he wondered how much she had told him on the phone. He had been on the run, sure, but never as long as she had been and never so harshly. Her situation was nothing compared to his. He had barely been doing that for months; she had been doing that for dozens of years. As Liho's almost inaudible purring rose in the air, Steve fell asleep in the chair he dragged next to her bed and only woke up every few hours to change the cloth on her forehead. She didn't wake up until sunrise.


	3. Dangerous fever

_Wakanda_

Steve was asleep when Natasha woke up. She opened her dizzy eyes and looked at the ceiling, frowning because it didn't look like the forest's canopy of leaves. When she painfully turned her head to the left, she saw Steve sitting in a broad chair. His hands were joined on his stomach and his chin almost touched his chest. She figured he'd have one hell of a stiff neck later but she couldn't bring herself to wake him up. He looked so peaceful and calm as if nothing weird had happened during the last months. He wore dark but modern clothes and she bit her lips when her gaze lingered on his well defined muscles. She blamed her unprofessional thoughts on her fever.

Something warm moved on her right among the white sheets and she saw Liho looking up at her with those big green eyes. Natasha stroked the cat that purred and scooted even closer to its owner. "Do you know that in Italy long ago it was a sign of bad luck to have a black cat on the bed of a sick person?" Natasha said to Liho.

"Well, it's a good thing I'm not superstitious then," someone said to her left. She turned to see Steve fully awake.

"I didn't mean to wake you up…"

"It's alright." He stood and placed his hand on her forehead after taking the warm cloth away. He then placed the thermometer in her mouth but she was too tired to protest. "You still have a high fever," Steve said after looking at the small stick.

"Where…"

"In Wakanda. We found you yesterday in the forest, drenched to the bone, fever and all. You scared the shit out of me, Nat." He said that with a steady tone but she could hear all the layers of worry underneath it.

"Language," she replied softly as he changed the cloth and put it back on her forehead. She couldn't help but moan at the fresh sensation.

"I'm never going to live that down, am I?" he asked, a smile on his lips. She couldn't help but smile back while he raised the covers up to her chin.

"Nope, not with me at least, and I don't think Tony will let that go either." She then coughed and Steve brought her a glass of water.

"Here." He helped her sit up, which disturbed Liho who decided to take a walk and left the room, tail held high. Steve let her out before he gently put Natasha's head against the headboard when he realized she could barely sit, swaying. She didn't allow him to hold her the glass while she drank though. He then brought her some food, what was actually left from his breakfast which mainly consisted of exotic fruit from local farms.

Natasha ate a bit and she tried to look strong in front of Steve but he saw right through her. "You don't have to pretend to be strong, Nat. Everyone ends up stuck in a bed once in a while."

She nodded then stopped eating. According to Steve, it wasn't enough, but he didn't push it since she had actually eaten more than he thought she would. He pushed the plate on a table nearby and sat back once he helped her down under the covers.

"I hate to ask you that in your condition…" she raised a threatening eyebrow, daring him to continue with the whole damsel in distress speech she was sure he was about to blurt out. "Ok, I know you're not a damsel in distress." He took a deep breath "What happened Tasha?"

She looked through the wide panel windows on the left, past Steve and into the rainy jungle that surrounded them. "I told you: they came after me."

"You're the Black Widow, the best spy I know. You could disappear in the blink of an eye. Either they were really good or you got sloppy. And Ross's men don't strike me as top of their class."

She sighed. "No, they're far from good. I mean, sure for guys in the law enforcement, CIA and all, they're good. But you're right, they were no match for me. Well, in small numbers at least. I faced a small group three weeks ago. That's when the chase started. I was in Texas, near one of my safe houses when they spotted me. Could have been a blind guess or they had a nose for it since my disguise was very good, I don't know. It just happened. They attacked, I fled. They chased me in three different states the week after. I barely ate and slept so yeah, that explains my condition. But that's what I had to do to survive and not get caught. A week ago, a bigger team cornered me in Philadelphia."

"How big?" She remained silent. "Nat…" there was a little bit of threat in his tone and Natasha realized he was using his Captain America booming voice on her. But she didn't say anything knowing that he wasn't actually threatening her, he would never do that. She sighed.

"Three whole squadrons."

His face paled. "Air support?"

She nodded. "Two choppers. Ross in person was in one of them." She laughed as she remembered. "They had me cornered on this giant square. Made sure every civilian had been evacuated. Like I was some kind of bomb about to go off. I know I'm not American and I just have an extended visa but for fuck's sake…" Steve shot her a dark look but she didn't apologize for her rudeness, instead she smiled broadly, provoking Steve. "Anyway, he told me to stand down. That if I came nicely they would go easy on me." She sniggered. "Since when does an American go easy on a Russian? The Cold War might be over but some things never change…"

She stopped to catch her breath which had accelerated with the enthusiasm she told her story. "Hey, take it easy, Nat." Steve handed her the glass of water but she refused.

"Of course, I didn't tell him to fuck off but I sure as hell thought it. I don't know how many butts I kicked that day but it was a lot. One of them managed to shoot me straight in the thigh; it went all the way through. At least the scar will be prettier, unlike the ones made by Soviet-made weapons. And in my escape I twisted my ankle."

"How did you escape?"

"They blew a lot of things on that square. Chaos ensured and all hell broke loose. Some of them had different gas bombs. I used the smoke to get lost in the traffic. In Manhattan, I grabbed Liho and a few things and here I am!" she said that last part a little too loud and joyfully to be genuine but he knew she was trying to hide her weaknesses.

"Take some sleep, you have to break that fever," Steve said, standing down.

"Yes Sir." She smiled weakly and soon her eyes closed and she was asleep again.

Unfortunately, it didn't stay like that for long. A few hours later during the middle of the morning, Steve came to check on her after a few hours in the grounds where he ran and fought with some of the warriors to train and stay fit. He found Natasha on the floor near the bed, retching in the bucket of water. All of her breakfast had come up and she kept dry heaving for a good ten minutes while Steve held her hair back. He traced soothing circles on her back and whispered soft encouragements. He even dared to kiss her temple every once in a while, ignoring the thick layer of sweat that covered her face. Once she was done, he picked her up and gently laid her in bed under the covers. When he was back with a fresh bucket of water, she was fast asleep again. So he put a fresh cloth on her forehead and watched over her.

It was still pouring outside and Liho somehow found her way back into the room. Well, rather in front of it because she couldn't come in. It's one of the doctors that let her in when she came to check up on Natasha once Steve had alerted her that her condition was worsening. The doctor wasn't pleased with the situation and how high her temperature had risen in the last couple of hours. She left to make some strong medication from local plants.

During the three hours it took the doctor to make the medicine because of the very difficult and delicate process, Natasha had dry heaved almost ten times. Her stomach wasn't able to hold anything down and she even ended up throwing up bile and blood when there was nothing else to throw up. Liho didn't climb in the bed, maybe because she didn't feel like sticking so close to such a sick person. Steve tried to ignore the comments of the doctor that said that black cats could sense death.

By the afternoon, Natasha had received the first round of medication. Basically, the doctor forced Natasha to drink a purple liquid that strongly smelled of berries but also of something very sour and Natasha chocked on it the first time, spilling it all on her shirt. Luckily, the doctor, whose name was Shawna, had made lots of it, knowing a lot would be needed in this situation. Shawna had also prepared an ointment of eucalyptus and other plants with too complicated names. She rubbed it on Natasha's chest, neck and temple's, saying it would ease her breathing and reduce slightly the heat of her skin.

During the whole afternoon, it was a constant battle. Natasha couldn't keep even the magical weird purple potion down and it ended three times in the bucket that Steve had taken a habit of emptying and cleaning every half hour. If the ointment worked, they didn't know and didn't really have a way to check besides Natasha getting better which wasn't happening. Shawna said she had a really bad case of fever due to both her exhaustion, weight loss, blood loss and also the fact that she had been soaked to the bone on her way to Wakanda. They tried to give her food that would be easily digested but even that didn't stay down. Neither did plain normal and vital water.

By the evening, Shawna was losing hope. They had tried to give Natasha the medicine a dozen times but her stomach was still rebelling. Her fever reached really dangerous and almost irreparable heights. And if Natasha couldn't eat or drink soon, she would die, that's basically what Shawna said before she walked away for the night. Steve could still call her but things had been the same during the whole afternoon. Shawna still advised to try to give her the medication, her hope hanging by the single thread that Natasha's body would end up accepting it.

As night fell outside the huge glass panel windows behind him, Steve finished eating and stayed with Natasha during the whole night, not even thinking about sleep. He was too worried anyway. At some point around midnight when he had gone to wash and refill the bucket, Liho decided to sleep at the foot of the bed but still refused to climb on it. Steve grasped Natasha's hand and talked to her the entire night, telling her random things that made him smile, things about his childhood, things about the war, things about Bucky, things about Peggy, things he was proud of and others not so much. He had no idea if she could hear him but he kept talking.

Around two in the morning she started convulsing and her temperature was higher than ever. Steve called Shawna but there wasn't much they could do. They had to let her shiver and thrash around through her seizure and Steve hated seeing her like this. His heart broke every time her parched lips escaped a strangled cry of pain, every time she wheezed for air, every time a huge drop of sweat slid along her throat, mixing with the light green ointment.

She thrashed around for about an hour and during that whole time, Liho had snuggled in Steve's arms in fear. He stroked the cat and felt that somehow, it was also afraid for her mistress's life. Once the convulsing was over, Shawna made Natasha drink the purple potion again and left, obviously tired after the day's events. But before she left, she told Steve that if Natasha wasn't able to keep the medicine down by morning, she would die. She was too dehydrated and physically speaking her body has reached its limits and would start shutting down in the morning.

So Steve sat by her bed, her frail and pale hand in his, Liho back at the feet of the bed. Steve prayed to all the gods he knew even if he only believed in one. He prayed even to Thor. He spoke to Natasha through thick worried tears and told her how much he missed her, how much he blamed himself for all of this but also that she couldn't leave him like that because they had so many things to do and he wanted to tell her so many things.

Hours passed and the sun started to slowly rise in the horizon. Steve hadn't slept for one minute. His super-soldier metabolism allowed him to sleep less than the normal human. He also knew that Natasha had a stronger immune system than most because of the Red Room's Kudrin's serum she had received as a teenager. But even her enhancements hadn't helped her so far. It wasn't raining for once outside but Steve didn't even notice.

At something around five, Liho jumped on the bed and rolled in a ball next to Natasha's elbow without touching it though. It made Steve realize that Natasha hadn't thrown up in the last couple of hours. When Shawna came soon after that once the sun was up in the sky, she confirmed that the medicine had finally worked. She kept giving it to Natasha but didn't try any food or liquids until noon.

By noon, Natasha's fever was way down and remained on a not really dangerous level. It was still present and Steve kept changing the cloth on her forehead but it was a really good sign. She didn't throw up anymore and her breathing was greatly improved by the ointment. Her gunshot wound had also closed and there was no sign of infection. Her ankle remained twisted but that would take time to heal, even with the fact that Natasha healed faster than normal. They manage to wake her up for a few minutes and made her ate some soup that she kept down to everyone's relief. She was barely conscious though and didn't seem to register anything.

Steve only agreed to get some sleep in the afternoon and told Liho he left her in charge, that if anything was happening the cat had to wake him up. All Liho did was look at him once he finished talking and moved her ears back and forth while her long tail moved in a steady rhythm as it had for the last hour. But Steve was too exhausted to care he had just given an order to a cat and slumped on Natasha's couch in the living room, falling asleep as his head hit the soft surface of a cushion.

He was indeed woken up by Liho. The black cat was licking his hand that dropped from the couch. Somehow, Steve had moved during his sleep, shifting from where he slept on his stomach to sleeping on his back with on leg on an armrest and one hand touching the floor. Once Liho saw he was awake, she skittered to the apartment door and he let her out to do whatever she wanted to do. But he left the door ajar with a chair for her to come back whenever she wanted.

When he entered Natasha's room a few minutes later, she was finally awake.


End file.
